


hopelessly hopeful

by Krewlak



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Asexual Jughead Jones, F/M, Jeronica Week 2019, Spring Fling Jeronica, and i guess techically, season one AU, the florist story no one asked for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 17:47:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17985800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krewlak/pseuds/Krewlak
Summary: Riverdale is supposed to be a fresh start.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> day one - new beginnings

The space isn’t ideal but Veronica loves it all the same. It’s small and dusty and the windows definitely need to be replaced by something that lets more light in but it’s hers. Entirely hers and that’s all that matters in the end. She spends her first few weeks in Riverdale cleaning. The realtor had said that the space used to be the office for the local paper until they went bigger. Veronica wonders just how long ago they moved out when she spends three days in a row covered in cobwebs and dust.

She hires a local construction crew to replace the windows and build the counter space that she wants. They replace the flooring with bright blue tile that makes the entire space seem bigger and install new light fixtures. When they’re done, she paints the walls and adds floral decals in the corners. By the end of her second month in Riverdale, her little flower shop is beginning to match the designs she’s carried in her head for as long as she can remember.

She’s carefully painting the store’s logo in the back room when the bell above the front door chimes. Veronica rolls her eyes and finishes the swooping lettering on her name before shouting out, “We’re not open yet!”

“I know! I’m here from the Register,” a voice calls back. Veronica wipes her hands on her jeans and hurries out to the main store. She’d called when things started looking more put together, trying to get an interest piece in the local paper to drum up hype for the grand opening. She hadn’t expected them to send someone over so soon.

“I wasn’t expecting the paper to send someone down so soon,” Veronica says with a bright smile on her face. She holds her hand out towards the lanky man standing in her shop. “Veronica Lodge.”

“Jughead Jones,” he says, ignoring her extended hand and scuffing his boot on her brand new tile. “The third.”

“Jughead Jones the third,” Veronica repeats, frowning a little.

“It’s a family name,” he says as he lifts the camera around his neck and snaps a couple of shots. He sounds bored and Veronica wonders if it’s her that instantly bored him or having to explain his name for what she is sure is the millionth time that’s so dull.

“I find it hard to believe that Jughead is a family name,” Veronica replies. She watches him wander the small space with a raised eyebrow. She takes in his worn denim jacket, the dirty beanie, and flannel tied around his waist. He’s the perfect embodiment of small town hipster and Veronica is tempted to say as much. “So, you’re Betty’s reporter?”

“I wouldn’t say _Betty’s_ reporter,” he mutters as he turns on his heel, camera still at his eye. He takes a picture of her that she knows is not flattering. “And trust me, if you knew my real name, you’d know why I go by Jughead.”

“And I’m guessing that you won’t be telling me?” she asks. He finally puts his camera down and raises an eyebrow at her. Veronica finds herself smiling at him and then quickly realizes that this entire conversation has become far more flirty than she wants. She clears her throat and rubs her sweaty palms on her jeans. “Did you want to do the interview here? Or should we go to the Register’s offices?”

“Have you gone to Pop’s yet?” he asks. She makes a face and shakes her head. “Pop’s Chock-o-lit Shoppe is a staple in Riverdale. You aren’t really living here until you’ve found your signature milkshake flavor.”

“Is that much weight really placed on milkshake flavors?” Veronica asks. It sounds far too pedestrian and white-picket fence for her to actually believe it but he nods like it’s not weird at all. “People don’t switch it up depending on their moods?”

“Once you’ve had a shake from Pop’s, you’ll get it,” he says. He caps the lense of his camera and safely put it in his bag. Veronica grabbed her purse and slid a sweater on over her t-shirt to stave off some of the early spring chill that still hung in the air. She was decidedly dressed down for her usual fashion sense but Veronica figured new place, new her. “Lucky for you, we can walk over there.”

“The joys of small town living, I suppose,” she mutters. She lived her whole life in New York City but that didn’t mean that she actually walked  anywhere. That’s what the drivers were for anyways. She crosses her arms and gives him a close-lipped smile. “Ready?”

“After you,” he says, gesturing towards the front door.

Veronica snorts and points out that she doesn’t actually know where anything is in town still. The only locations that she knows are her house, her shop, and the grocery store. She hadn’t even had to go to the contractor’s offices when signing the contract. Fred Andrews had come to her instead, saying something about putting a personal touch on all of his projects. It had seemed a charming thought, a hands-on approach that Veronica had rarely found in the big city.

The walk to Pop’s Chock-o-lit Shoppe is a short one from her shop. They walk in relative silence. Veronica assumes quiet is Jughead’s natural state and she takes the moment to enjoy feeling the sun on her face.

Jughead directs them to a corner booth and instantly props his menu up, blocking out his face. Veronica does the same, scanning over the menu, “Are the onion rings any good here?”

“Is the sky blue?” he fires back without missing a beat. Veronica slaps her menu down on the table and reaches out to lower his as well. She stares at him with a bored look before he sighs. “Everything here is good. Trust me.”

“I just met you,” Veronica points out. Her eyes flick to his beanie. “And judging by that hat - your taste is questionable, at best.”

“Now who’s being rude?” Jughead says. The corner of his mouth ticks up a little bit and Veronica feels a rush go through her.

She’s gearing up to say something back but the waitress interrupts them. Veronica smiles softly at Jughead before tossing her hair over her shoulder and turning to the waitress. When she’s done, Jughead is still staring at her with the corner of his mouth still ticked up just the slightest bit. He orders without taking his eyes off her, turning at the last minute to slightly smile up at the waitress.

Once the she walks away, Jughead clears his throat and shifts in his seat. He laces his fingers together on the table and leans forward a little, “Shall we start?”

Veronica nods, “If we must.”

Jughead nods and reaches into his bag to pull out a notepad and pen. She pulls her hair back into a ponytail and watches him pull up a recording app on his phone. Once he’s ready, he settles back into the booth and looks up at her. His eyes widen just the tiniest bit and he swallows loudly. Veronica just blinks at him, completely unsure of what was going on.

“So, Veronica Lodge, why Riverdale?” he asks, flipping to a blank page in his notepad. She mimics his posture from earlier, lacing her fingers together and leaning forward a bit before she answers.

“My parents grew up here and after growing up in New York City I was ready for a change of pace,” Veronica explains with a shrug. She doesn’t go into her father’s arrest. Doesn’t go into her spectacular burn out from business school. Doesn’t talk about how her mother sent her away to avoid the scandal. Nope. None of that stuff matters. “I’ve always loved flowers and the thought of owning my own shop has always been a dream.”

“And moving to Riverdale has nothing to do with the fact that all of your family’s assets in New York were seized by the SEC?” Jughead asks completely catching her off-guard. “Or rather - everything that was in your parent’s names which excluded a pretty nice trust fund and a condo in the Pembrooke which happened to be in the name of one Veronica Cecilia Lodge.”

Veronica inhales sharply through her nose. She slowly sits up and tries to not back down from Jughead’s assessing gaze. She honestly hadn’t expected him to have done this kind of research. She’d assumed that this would just be a fluff piece to round out their paper. She’d assumed that her family and all of it’s drama would be off the table. Clearly, she’d assumed wrong.

“My father’s legal troubles really have nothing to do with my shop,” Veronica says, keeping an even tone. “The trust fund and the condo were both gifts from my grandparents though I suppose I can appreciate your research abilities, Mr. Jones.”

He raises his eyebrows at her icy tone but she stands her ground. If he wants to play the interview this way, then so be it. She’s a Lodge and no small town reporter was going to make her balk.

“So, then, I won’t be getting a quote about the allegations against your father and the rumors about your mother’s involvement?” Jughead asks, raising both eyebrows towards his hairline. Veronica presses her mouth into a thin line and doesn’t even bother answering him. He sighs and scratches the back of his neck. “Fine. Anything in particular that you want to put in the article?”

“You’re asking _me_ what to write?” Veronica asks, placing a dainty hand on her chest. “Aren’t you supposed to be the journalist here?”

“Well, writing community fluff pieces isn’t exactly my favorite thing,” he replies and it stings just a bit. “Seriously though, whatever you want to say about your business, why Riverdale, why flowers, etc. etc. etc.”

Veronica opens her mouth to say something - she’s not entirely sure what but it would have been scathing - when the waitress brings their food. She glares down at her burger, finding whatever appetite she had almost entirely gone. Jughead doesn’t have that probably as he tucks into his burger. He manages to finish half in two large bites before looking at her again, “Veronica?”

She shakes her head and shoves an onion ring into her mouth. He gives her a confused look before finishing off his burger in two more bites. She’s not sure if she’s disgusted or impressed by his eating capabilities.

“Just talk up the benefit of having a florist in town,” she says suddenly, breaking her stare. “How you can just walk down the street instead of having to drive to Greendale. Support local business. That kind of stuff.”

He nods and sucks at his milkshake before saying, “You know, I’m gonna have to talk about you a little bit.”

She pauses with her burger halfway to her mouth. It’s a fair point but after his questioning about her parents Veronica isn’t sure if she wants to share with him. She bites into her burger to buy herself a few seconds to calm her heart. Riverdale is supposed to be a fresh start. She doesn’t have to play the games she did in New York.

“Well,” she says after swallowing. “It’s a new start, coming to Riverdale and opening the shop. A new beginning and that’s what flowers represent more than anything right? Growth and change and all that?”

“Except the florist is the end of the line for that growth metaphor,” Jughead says as he eats the last of his fries. He slides his plate out of the way and eyes her half eaten onion rings. She narrows her eyes at him but slides him the plate regardless. “I can make it work though.”

“Well if it’s not too much trouble,” she says, rolling her eyes.

She pops the cherry from her shake into her mouth, savoring the pop of sour that went along with the sweet whipped cream. He’s managed to eat the rest of her onion rings in the meantime. She takes a sip of her milkshake and widens her eyes. Jughead, of course, notices, “Told you.”

“How does he do it?” Veronica asks, looking over her shoulder at the man standing behind the counter. She looks back at Jughead with wide eyes. “There’s some sort of illicit drug in this milkshake, isn’t there?”

Jughead smiles, the first honest one that she’s gotten all afternoon, and shakes his head, “No, just years of practice. This place has been in the Tate family since it first opened back in the 30s. Pop Tate has worked that counter his entire life.”

“That’s,” she pauses, trying to find the right word and sips from her shake. “Something.”

“It’s small town,” Jughead says with a shrug. “We know it. We own it. I’m sure it’s small compared to what you’re used to but we’re proud of it.”

“I would not have pegged you as the defender of all things small town,” Veronica says slowly. The corner of his mouth quirks up and she dubs that her smile. She wraps her fingers around her shake and holds it up a little. “Well, cheers to small towns and new beginnings.”

Jughead just raises an eyebrow at her until she pouts and he raises his own milkshake to clink gently against hers.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> day two - rainshowers

The rain is almost deafening as Veronica installs the display shelves. The Spring festival is only a few weeks away and she’s already committed to having her grand opening next week. After the article Jughead wrote appeared in the paper, Cheryl Blossom had barged through her door demanding her services for the festival. Veronica had agreed quickly enough for the publicity and the much needed business.

What she hadn’t planned was the extra amount of work that needed to be done before she could open. She’s grateful that at the very least she has her suppliers already lined up. She still needed to order and pick up all the stationary that the store was going to use, not to mention the various tools of the trade that she still needed to stock up on. Her to do list seemed to be growing endlessly.

The rain had started earlier that week. Pop Tate had insisted that this was the true start of spring in Riverdale when she’d picked up what had become her habitual morning coffee the day before. He said that she could expect a week of miserable rain that always resulted in sunny days. She had decided to take his word on that account as she’d grabbed her coffee and headed back into the wet gloom.

Today is true to Pop’s word with nothing but gray skies and consistent rain showers. She’s grateful that she hasn’t had to run any errands today. She just needed to be there to sign for deliveries and finish up some smaller projects. When Jughead rushes through her door completely soaked, Veronica sees it as another bonus of having the door unlocked.

“You look like a drowned rat,” she says, scrunching up her nose. They haven’t exactly talked since he interviewed her for the article. She’s seen him in passing but they haven’t exchanged more than a casual nod.

“Thanks,” he deadpans as he shakes his arms out. Veronica purses her lips and goes to get a towel. She’s already coming back with one when he asks, “Do you have any towels?”

“These are new tiles,” she says with a smile. “Can’t have you dripping all over them.”

“Yeah, I did work here, you know,” he mutters as he wrings out his hat on the floor. Veronica grits her teeth and marches to the back to get more towels. When she comes back, he’s rubbing the towel over his hair and smiling at her. “Though I appreciate the color choice over the standard black and white.”

“Right? It makes all the difference, completely brightens up the place,” she says not missing the chance to brag about her accomplishments. “I don’t know how anyone could have worked in such a dark space.”

“We made it work,” Jughead replies as he watches her stomp on the towel that she’d dropped onto his puddle. “Aesthetic was never our top priority while writing the truth.”

“Writing the trust sounds awfully lofty, doesn’t it?” she asks with a slight smirk. Jughead snorts and hands her his towel. She looks over his shoulder back outside and grimaces. “Planning on going back into that?”

“I hadn’t planned on being in it in the first place,” Jughead grumbles. He turns to the rain drenched window and groans. “My truck broke down. I was trying to get to Pop’s to call my dad.”

“Why go all the way to Pop’s? I have a phone,” Veronica says, pointing to the backroom. “Or even better! They invented these little pocket phones that people carry with them.”

“Thanks for that very helpful observation,” Jughead replies. “Clearly I don’t have one.”

“Like I said, the phone in the back is there if you want,” she offers again as she goes back to installing the shelves. “Or you can go back into the rain. Your choice.”

She can feel Jughead’s glare on the bare of her neck but it only lasts a few seconds before she hears him shuffle past her. She can hear him talking in the back room a minute later. His voice is deep and not that bad to listen to from a distance. She zones out enough that when he comes back into the main store, he catches her off guard with a hand on her shoulder.

“Jesus Christ,” she shouts, pressing a hand to her chest. “Could you be any sneakier?”

“Maybe pay attention to your surroundings more,” Jughead replies. His hat is still shoved into his jacket pocket, towel wrapped around his neck, so his black hair is loose and curling around his eyes. She almost wants to reach up to swipe it out of the way for him. “My dad should be here soon with his tow truck. Should be out of your hair in no time.”

Veronica shrugs and opens another package of shelving brackets, “No rush. Unless, of course, you’re that eager to get away from me.”

“I know entrapment when I see it, Lodge,” Jughead says, shaking his head. “I’m not falling for it.”

“Entrapment?”

“Either I admit that I want to get away from you or I admit that I want to spend more time with you,” Jughead says. “If I want to get away, I’m a jerk and if I want to stay, I’m desperate.”

“No one said that wanting to spend time with me is a bad thing,” Veronica points out. She pauses for a second, finger on her chin while she considers. “At least, as long as you don’t pay attention to twitter.”

“Lucky for you, social media is my kryptonite,” Jughead says as he hops up on one of display islands. Veronica just raises at eyebrow and glances at his still wet sneakers as they bang against the fresh white of the display. He blatantly ignores her signals and shoves his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “You will never find me scrolling through twitter or instagram or any of that shit.”

“My oh my, how is the air up there on your pedestal?” Veronica asks, shaking her head. “Please let us common social media users if you can tell when the rain will end.”

“If my calculations are right,” Jughead says, staring through the window. “Give it a week to the end of time for it to slow down.”

“A week? Seriously?” Veronica asks, turning to look out the window as well. “If I’d wanted this much rain, I would have moved to Seattle.”

“Worried about your hair, Princess?” Jughead replies with too much mirth in his voice. Veronica knows that they’ve been teasing back and forth since they met but commenting on her hair? That might just be going too far. He must see the murderous look on her face because he quickly back tracks. “Not that there’s much damage to it now but as soon as you walk outside?”

“Jughead Jones, you barely know me and already you’re assuming that I’ll melt in the rain,” she says with a scoff.

“I call em like I see em,” he replies holding his hands up.

“I am definitely missing the green skin and flying monkeys, Jones,” she says. He just raises his eyebrow at her and hops off the counter. He heads to the front door and goes to open it. “What are you doing?”

“Testing a theory,” he replies. “Unless you’re actually worried about your hair frizzing.”

Veronica looks at the shelving bracket that she’d completely forgotten about during her teasing of Jughead. She bites her lip before looking back to him. He’s smirking, almost like he knows that she won’t go through with it. It’s enough for her to march through the front door without even looking back.

The wind is fierce, instantly whipping her hair around her face. She’s out there for barely a minute before her shirt is drenched and her hair is plastered against her face. Her only saving grace is the knowledge that her makeup is mostly waterproof. She won’t be going back inside looking like a raccoon. Suddenly, there’s a warm hand wrapping around her arm and dragging her back into the shop. Veronica swipes her hair free from her eyes and looks up at a very disgruntled Jughead.

“Seriously, Veronica? Seriously?” he says, dropping the towel that he had used onto her head. She pushes it out of the way and just widens her eyes in faux innocence. “If you get sick and die, it is not on me.”

“Why would I die?” Veronica asks with a laugh. She wrings her hair out with the towel and tries to smother her smile. There’s a vein twitching beneath Jughead’s eye and he’s staring at her like she has two heads. “Seriously, Jughead, it’s just a little water and I was trying to prove a point.”

“Well, I was joking,” Jughead replies, turning away from her. Veronica rolls her eyes and wraps the towel around her shoulders. She’s sure the pastel pink shirt she’d chosen this morning is totally see through and, though tempting, she doesn’t want to give him a show. “You do know what a joke is.”

“I know a funny one when I hear it,” she replies, following after him. He’s inspecting the stack of Register papers that she has by the door. She almost groans at the stack. She’d put in her order for regular paper deliveries a little too early. “Please let me know when you come up with one.”

“You barely know me.”

“True but you’re little attempt at investigative journalism says that humor is not your strong suit,” Veronica says as she lays a hand on top of the stack. She watches Jughead’s eyes scan over her hand and up her arm before they slowly journey to her neck, pauses for a second, and finally lands on her face. “Unless all my instinct are wrong and you were elected class clown in high school?”

“And you were prom queen,” Jughead supplies. “Maybe even valedictorian? You seem like the type.”

“The type? You mean hardworking and ambitious, right?” Veronica asks, narrowing her eyes at him.

He tilts his head back, letting a natural smile spread across his face, “Compliment fishing doesn’t suit you.”

“And what does suit me, Jughead Jones the third?” she asks slowly, tilting her head up to make eye contact. She’s not sure when it happened but they’ve moved closer to each other, the edge of her towel brushing against his side. She smiles just as slowly as she spoke. Her fingers twitch against the newspapers with the urge to brush his curls from his eyes again as he looks down at her. “Since you know me so well apparently.”

“I’m a writer. I make my living by being observant,” Jughead replies, voice low enough to rumble against her skin.

“Are you saying that you’ve . . . observed me?” she asks. She worries her bottom lip with her teeth just to push off the beaming smile that wants to spread across her face. She knows that if she didn’t find him half as cute that she would find the admission creepy but she knows that this isn’t the case.

“I wouldn’t say just you in particular,” he says because of course nothing can be as simple as he liked looking at her. Liked flirting with her, even. “But since you are the newest resident of our sleepy little town . . .”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment,” she says, letting her smile burst forth. She’s rewarded with a laugh that makes her stomach slip over. He’s opening his mouth to say something back when a knock on the door makes them both jump.

Veronica spins around, the towel slipping from her shoulders, to find a flannel wearing man standing in her doorway. Jughead moves past her without a backwards glance and pulls the older man into a hug, “Thanks for picking me up.”

“That’s my truck, boy. Like hell I’m going to let her drown cause you can’t keep her running,” the man replies, keeping his eyes on Veronica until Jughead pulls away. “You going to introduce me?”

Jughead actually has the audacity to pause so Veronica steps forward with her hand stretched out, “Veronica Lodge.”

“FP Jones,” he says, taking her hand. “Lodge. I know that name from somewhere.”

“Maybe the paper?” Veronica asks, hoping that this isn’t going to devolve into a chat about her parents. “Jughead here wrote a stellar write up of my shop.”

“Did he now?” FP asks, turning to look at Jughead with an unreadable look. Jughead just rolls his eyes. “I’ll have to see if I can find that article.”

“You’re just in luck!” Veronica says before rushing to the back office. She grabs one of the many copies of that particular paper and comes back to the main store holding it in front of her. “I might have been too excited and grabbed, like, six copies.”

FP just chuckles and looks at Jughead with another unreadable look. He folds the newspaper up and shoves it in his back pocket before clapping Jughead on the shoulder, “Well, Miss Lodge, thanks for letting my boy dry off. We’ll be heading out.”

“Anytime,” Veronica says, nodding at FP. She looks at Jughead but he looking everywhere that isn’t her. “I’ll see you around then, Jughead?”

“Not if I see you first,” he replied quickly. His cheeks turn pink a second later and the smirk that seems to be a permanent fixture on FP’s face turns into a full blown, shit-eating grin. “I mean. Yeah. Around town and whatnot.”

“Right.”

“Right.”

“Come on, boy,” FP says with another laugh. He slides his hand to the back of Jughead’s neck and guides him towards the door. “Try to stay dry, Miss Lodge!”

“You do the same, Mr. Jones,” Veronica replies just as the door shuts behind them. Though she figured with the amount of rain, that would be a long shot for both of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't edit this. Like at all. So forgive any mistakes.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> day three - green

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i came up with these themes and of course i've got nothing for green so i'm playing it fast and loose. lol. and since i'm late with this, yet again, it was not edited and any mistakes should be forgiven ;)

Veronica walks into Pop’s with a smile on her face and a serious craving for some onion rings. She sits down at the counter and rests her chin in the palm of her hand. Pop Tate slowly makes his way over, giving her a small nod, “Good afternoon, Miss Lodge.”

“Please, I’ve asked you to call me Veronica,” she says, rolling her eyes. He chuckles and shakes his head. “I can’t imagine you ever called my mom Miss Gomez.”

“Well, considering I’ve known Hermione Gomez since she was a girl, you would be right,” he says. “Your usual?”

“Chocolate shake and onion rings,” Veronica says with a nod. She leans in conspiratorially. “I need my fix. You’ve made me an addict, Pop.”

“Your mom loved onion rings, too,” he says as he writes her order down. “Tuna melt, onion rings and a cherry slushie, if memory serves me right.”

“And Hiram Lodge?” she asks because she can’t help herself. Because he can’t have always been a bad guy. Pop frowns in concentration for a moment before snapping his fingers. 

“BLT with extra bacon and extra mayonnaise, pickle on the side, chips, and a sweet tea,” he says. He holds up his finger and thinks for a minute longer. “And a banana split to top it all off.”

“You are seriously like the rain man of food orders,” Veronica says with a laugh. 

Though they’d never been to Pop’s, those were her parents’ favorite sandwiches when they used to go to the deli on the corner near their old apartment. Veronica’s heart sinks a little just thinking about her parents. She hasn’t talked to her mother since letting her know that she was in Riverdale. It was what they had agreed on. A clean break until her father was sentenced. After that? It was anyone’s guess. 

“You do a job long enough, you remember certain things,” he says with a shrug. “Go ahead and find a booth. I’ll bring you your order.”

“Thanks, Pop,” she says softly. 

He gives her another nod and she slides from the stool. She heads towards the corner booth that she’d shared with Jughead weeks ago. She’s claimed it as her own whenever she comes in here. The booth is always empty like it’s just waiting for it’s usual occupant to sit down. Today, though, there’s a blonde ponytail on one side and Jughead on the other. He’s laughing and smiling in a way that her gently teasing flirtations have yet to inspire. She feels her stomach clench but she ignores the feeling and continues in that direction. 

“Jughead, hey,” she says when she comes up to the table. She tries to ignore the way her palms are sweating when she turns to the unknown face. She sticks her hand out because no one can say that Veronica is anything other than polite. “Veronica Lodge.”

“I know,” the blonde says with a laugh that lights up her whole face. She’s all big, green eyes and pink lips and rosy cheeks. If Veronica were anything other than the confident woman that she is might actually feel threatened by the whole girl-next-door thing that the blonde has going on. She takes Veronica’s hand and gives it a firm shake. “Betty Cooper. We’ve actually talked on the phone a couple of times.”

“Oh!” Veronica says instantly recognizing the name. She looks at Jughead briefly but he’s too busy shoving food into his mouth. “So nice to finally put a face to the name.”

“How are things going with the shop?” Betty asks. “Your opening the same week at the Spring festival?”

“Wow, word travels fast, doesn’t it?” Veronica asks, raising her eyebrows. 

“We do work for the newspaper,” Jughead grumbles. Veronica frowns and blinks at him. “It’s pretty common knowledge.”

“What Jughead means is that Cheryl has already invited the Register to cover the event,” Betty says, glaring at Jughead as well. Jughead just crosses his arms and huffs. Betty just rolls her eyes good naturedly and something inside Veronica unclenches just the tiniest bit. “I am surprised that Cheryl would agree to something like that. She usually hosts the opening at Thornhill. It’s  _ tradition _ .”

From the way that Betty says tradition, Veronica can surmise how much of a nightmare Cheryl Blossom truly is. It doesn’t surprise her, though, not after their little tête-à-tête concerning the festival. Veronica doesn’t bother hiding how smug she feels when she says, “Well, I can be very convincing when I want to be.”

“You must be,” Betty says, tilting her head. She bites into her grilled cheese and chews a little before speaking. “I mean, you convinced Juggie not to do his Lodge Industries expose in the same paper at your community pulse piece.”

“There’s a difference between being convincing someone not to do something and refusing to give a quote,” Veronica says slowly. Her eyes slide over to Jughead again and at least this time he’s looking at her. But she can’t read his face and he doesn’t say anything. “But you’re still planning on going through with the article?”

“I’m a reporter and it’s the news, isn’t it?” Jughead asks. He leans forward a little and gives her a searching look. “Especially since they’re both Riverdale High alumnis.”

“Of course,” she replies through clenched teeth. “Why would I expect anything else?”

“Why don’t you sit down, Veronica?” Betty asks interrupting whatever it is Jughead is about to say. Her eyes dart between Jughead and Veronica, wary and excited at the same time. She looks at Veronica with a pleasant smile that does very little to hide the eagerness in her eyes. “You might as well join us.”

Veronica hesitates, eyes darting to Jughead. Betty notices and presses her lips together but not fast enough for Veronica to miss the way the corners of her mouth curl in the tiniest of smiles. Jughead, of course, doesn’t make room for her on his side of the booth. He just sinks down further into the booth, propping his knee against the table. Betty just slides over silently. 

“So, how have you been settling into Riverdale?” Betty asks. She continues to eat her sandwich and looks at Veronica with her big, green eyes.

“I haven’t really settled in, to be honest,” Veronica says. “I mean, if it weren’t for Jughead I wouldn’t have even tried Pop’s yet which would have a tragedy of epic proportions.”

“Without a doubt,” Betty says with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes this time. There’s something a little too calculating in her eyes but Veronica doesn’t know her well enough to say anything. “Though there really isn’t much to do in Riverdale. There’s the Bijou.”

“Movie theatre and hang out of the local youths,” Jughead supplies, speaking for the first time since she sat down. “Everything is about a decade late.”

“The drive-in,” Betty lists next. 

Again, Jughead provides the context, “Run down, under attended, and probably next up on Mayor McCoy’s rehabilitate Riverdale initiative.”

“Does anyone even go to the drive in anymore? I mean with video on demand and all that?” she asks, scrunching her nose a little bit. “Not that I hate the nostalgia and small town charm of it all. Just. Seems a bit outdated?”

“Why am I not surprised?” Jughead says, rolling his eyes. 

“What is your problem?” Veronica snaps, tired of his sullen teenager routine. 

“I don’t have a problem,” he replies instantly because he really is a child. 

“Clearly there is something very wrong, Jughead Jones,” Veronica says, clutching the edge of the table and leaning forward. “I was just making a casual observation. In fact that’s all I’ve been doing and all you have been doing is sulk.”

“Excuse me, did I ruin your precious afternoon? Trust me. I know the feeling.”

“I just asked about the drive in!” Veronica says. 

“Look, the drive-in is a staple of this town. It’s been here for fifty years and is part of our collective memory. My family went there in Friday nights. I had my first date there. My first kiss. And I’m not the only on,” Jughead barks. His mouth is nearly white he’s so angry. She knows now that it isn’t her. There’s no way that it could be her. 

“Jughead,” Veronica say, softening her tone and releasing her grip on the table.  “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Yeah. It doesn’t mean anything to you because Riverdale is just a pet project. Somewhere you can hide out and lick your wounds and recoup while your parents lose everything. It's a means to an end,” he snaps. “But the rest of us? For the rest of us, it’s home.”

He doesn’t even give her the chance to say anything before he storms away. He pushes past Pop Tate who has her onion rings and milkshake. Veronica quickly moves to the other side the booth, still staring after Jughead and frowning. Pop Tate puts the basket of onion rings and milkshake down, having enough decency not to ask why Jughead just stormed out. 

“He’s been in a mood since he found out,” Betty says with a shrug. “Don’t take it personally.”

“Trust me. I don’t,” Veronica says, shaking her hair out. She eyes Betty’s ponytail and remembers the look in Jughead’s eye during that first interview. She hums to herself as she plucks the cherry from her shake.

“He used to live there,” Betty says like it’s a casual thing. Like living at a drive in theatre is something that every middle American has heard of or done. “When things at home weren’t any good, he’s camp out in the projection booth. He was the only one who know how to get the reels on and everything so the manager never said anything.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Veronica asks before taking a long, slow sip from her shake. She closes her eyes in happy contentment for a second before looking at Betty. “I mean, I can’t imagine Jughead would appreciate you sharing his story like this. He seems like the bear it in silence type.”

“You’re not wrong,” Betty says with a small laugh. She bites her lip and searches Veronica’s face for a minute. “But I wanted you to know exactly why it’s so important to him. To this town.”

“Look, I’m sorry for belittling the drive in,” Veronica says, looking away. She doesn’t feel particularly apologetic and a year ago she would have rather been hit by a bus than apologize for something she has no remorse for. But new town, new Veronica and she wants to trust Betty’s big sea green eyes. “But I don’t really see your point.”

“I might have an idea to save the drive in,” Betty says in a rush. She clasps her hands together and leans forward over the table. “And if you can convince Cheryl to change the location of the opening ceremony then I know that you can help me with this.”

“Betty I’m already committed to so much,” Veronica says, shaking her head. “Between the opening of both my store and the festival, I’m already stretched pretty thin.”

“It’ll win you bonus points with a certain beanie wearing journalist,” Betty sing-songs before finishing off her milkshake. Veronica freezes with an onion ring halfway to her mouth. Betty smiles around her straw and Veronica drops the onion ring to her plate. “I won’t tell him, by the way.”

“You think there’s something to tell?”

“You like him, right?” Betty asks. There’s nothing malicious in her voice but Veronica hesitates to answer anyways. Betty rolls her eyes and sighs, pushing her empty plate and glass to the end of the table. “I’ve known Jughead since I was in the third grade. He’s grumpy and stand offish sometimes but he’s also insanely loyal and funny in his own way.”

“Are you offering to . . . help me?” Veronica asks, trying to wrap her head around the idea entirely. It seems too high school for the situation but after their little spat Veronica doesn’t really feel like saying no to the offer. 

“In exchange for your help, of course,” Betty says. Veronica considers it for another minute, chewing on her bottom lip. Her fingers twitch, wanting to clutch the pearl necklace that she doesn’t wear anymore, before she finally nods her agreement. Betty claps her hands together and, somehow, her green eyes shine all that much brighter looking more like fresh grass than seafoam. “Thank you! This is going to be great, I know it.”

“Whatever you say, Betty Cooper,” Veronica replies with a sigh and a small smile that she can’t resist. “Whatever you say.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> day four - cherry blossoms

“Well, well,” Cheryl says as she stands in the doorway of her shop. “I must say, Veronica, that I am impressed that you seemed to have pulled it all together.”

Veronica doesn’t roll her eyes. She just continues to put together the party favors for the end of the night. The caterers are bustling around the space, setting up trash cans, drink stations, and the appetizers. Veronica wants them done and out within the next thirty minutes. Thankfully, they seem more than capable of accomplishing that goal. 

“Things would go faster if you actually helped, Cheryl,” Veronica mutters. Cheryl just raises her eyebrow and smirks. “Is that a no?”

“Look, you’re new here and that’s the only reason that I’m being nice about this,” Cheryl says as she looks through her bag for her compact. She applies a fresh coat of bright red lipstick and fluffs her hair before looking back to Veronica. “I’m Cheryl Blossom aka Cheryl Bombshell aka the head bitch in charge of this drab little town.”

“Is any of that supposed to mean anything to me?” Veronica asks. She ties the bow on the last gift bag and starts packing them in a box so that they can be carried back to the office. They won’t need them until halfway through the event. 

“It means one thing, my dear florist,” Cheryl says, clutching the handles of her bag with both hands. “I lead. I delegate. I observe. What I do not do is any physical work. Understood?”

Veronica laughs, nothing more than a bitter huff of air, and puts her hands on her hips. She figured it was only a matter of time before she had this moment with Cheryl. She had thought that it would have happened back when Betty had insisted on having the May Pole on the drive in lawn. The two of them had bypassed Cheryl and gone to the board who’d agreed wholeheartedly despite the complaints of the chairperson. 

“Listen, Cheryl Bombshell,” Veronica says, lowering her voice and walking towards the redhead. Cheryl sense the shift and stands up a little straighter, looking down at her Veronica in her heels. 

“I know who you are. You’d rather people fear you than like you, so you traffic in terror and intimidation. You’re rich so you’ve never been held accountable. I mean, let’s be honest - what can’t money buy? But let me give you some advice from one former bad girl to another: that entitlement you wear like a crown? It won’t last. So, you should consider treating people with a little respect because when you fall - and, trust me, you will - you’re going to want those people on your side.”

Cheryl inhales sharply through her nose but doesn’t say anything. Veronica waits, eyebrow raised, but Cheryl never delivers. She just spins on her heel and storms out of the store. Veronica deflates as soon as the door closes and presses her hands to her eyes. It’s going to be a long day. 

By noon and the official opening of her front door Veronica manages to pull everything together. She greets everyone with a smile and a custom cherry blossom cocktail. Betty raises her eyebrows at her own and Veronica answers the unasked question, “You have no idea how hard it is to source actual cherry blossoms in this area. This is the closest you’re going to get in Riverdale.”

Jughead looks down at his own drink with a vaguely suspicious look. She hasn’t seen him really since that disastrous afternoon at Pop’s but she isn’t surprised that he’s here. Betty had warned her that he would be here as photographer to her journalist. 

“It’s not poisoned, Jones,” Veronica says, trying to sound playful. “Just floral.” 

“I’ll be the judge of that,” he mumbles before sipping delicately. He doesn’t comment on the beverage just tops his head and saunters away. Veronica watches him go with a sigh. 

“Your pining is obvious,” Betty whispers with a wicked smirk. Veronica’s cheeks grow hot and she reaches out to take away Betty’s drink. “I’m just trying to be helpful.”

“Be helpful by getting amazing quotes about my space,” Veronica hisses, pushing her away. Betty goes easily enough with a laugh. Veronica spends the next hour or so laughing with guests, keeping the appetizer trays filled, and making sure everything is in place for Cheryl’s commencement speech. 

She sees Jughead standing on the outsides of the crowd, camera at his eye more often than not. Betty’s ponytail bounces through the crowd and she spots Cheryl making her way to the front of the store where the sound system is. Veronica makes her way to the back corner where Jughead is and leans against the wall next to him. He bumps his hip against hers and she smiles just the slightest bit. 

“Citizens of Riverdale,” Cheryl says into the microphone. Veronica resists the urge to roll her eyes at the perkiness of her tone. “As chairperson of the Spring Festival Planning Committee, I would like to formally welcome you to our opening ceremony. First off, let’s have a warm round of applause for our gracious host - Veronica Lodge, owner of  _ Le Fleur de Vie. _ ”

Veronica gives a little curtsy for the crowd as they clap. Jughead actually claps along but his condescending smirk makes her narrow her eyes. Once the noise dies down, Cheryl launches into a history of the festival which meant a history of the Blossoms in Riverdale. Veronica quietly groans and leans back against the wall. She lifts her foot and tries to give her ankle a break from her heels. She’s gotten used to flats. Heels aren’t nearly as comfortable as they used to be. 

Jughead nudges her side until she looks up at him. He jabs a thumb towards the entrance and wiggles his eyebrows. She bites her lip and casts her eyes around the shop. Everything looks like it’s under control. Jughead rolls his eyes at her hesitation and kicks at her heels with his sneaker before slipping out. Betty very quickly fills his spot. 

“What just happened?”

“Nothing.”

“Go after him.”

“Stop it.”

At that point, someone actually turns around and shushes them. Betty rolls her eyes and pushes at her shoulder until Veronica starts moving to the doorway. 

It feels good outside, the sun shining bright and a breeze keeping it cool. Jughead is leaning against his truck, eyes closed and face tilted up at the sun. 

“You look like a cat,” Veronica says, kicking off her heels. She sighs in relief and stretches her toes a bit. Jughead just turns to her with a content smile. Veronica tries not to be distracted by it. “Get any good shots?”

“A few,” he says. She picks up her shoes and goes to stand next to him. He looks down at her. “You worried about any bad angles?”

“Are you implying that I have any?” she asks with a small frown. He laughs and shakes his head. “I, actually, was wondering if there were any that I could use for the website.”

“You have a website already?” he asks. “You just opened.”

“It’s the digital age, Jones,” she says, shaking her head. “You have got to keep up with the times. Besides, I talked to this tech guy and he said he would give me a fair rate.”

“A tech guy?”

“Well, he said he was good with technology and faster than an actual IT service,” Veronica replies, waving her hand back and forth. “His name is almost as silly as yours.”

“Dilton,” Jughead says with a nod. He presses his mouth into a thin line that she doesn’t really understand. 

“Yeah! Dilton Doiley,” Veronica says. “Small town - I guess everyone knows everyone.”

“That and I went to high school with him,” Jughead explains. “He’s kind of a creep.”

“Oh no,” Veronica says, putting a hand on his chest to stop him. “I totally got that. My creep-dar is finely tuned but thanks for worrying about me.”

“I was not worried about you,” Jughead says with a groan. “It’s my civic duty to warn people about Dilton Doiley.”

“Your civic duty?”

“You know he lives in a bunker in the woods, right?” Jughead says, turning to her and crossing his arms. She mirrors him. “Like. He moved into it  _ before _ high school ended.”

“So judgemental, Jughead,” Veronica says, shaking her head. “I’m surprised. I expected better from the champion of the people.”

“The champion of the people huh?” Jughead asks, rolling his eyes. A few minutes pass of them just smiling at each other before he clears his throat and stands up straight. “So you actually want my photos?”

“Of course. Whose else?” she replies with an easy shrug. “I do read the paper and  _ see _ your photography. I’m big enough to admit that I was impressed.”

“I can send them to you after the event,” he says with a nod. She’s pretty sure that his cheeks are a little pink from the praise. She smiles in thanks and leans down to put her shoes back on. “Gonna head back in?”

“Kind of have to. It is my business,” Veronica says with a sigh. She closes her eyes and tries to ignore the way her feet throb. Jughead is right in front of her when she opens her eyes, looking down at her in concern. She smiles and touches his chest again because she’s decided that she gets to do that now. “See you inside?”

“Yeah,” he says, looking down at her hand. She nods and turns to go but he grabs her fingers stopping her. “You said you had problems sourcing cherry blossoms?”

“Yes?”

“My friend, best friend actually, works at this farm commune a few hours outside of town,” Jughead says, letting go of her hand quickly. He fiddles with his camera strap and looks down the street. “He knows all the local farmers in the area. I’m sure he could find a supply for you.”

“Really? That would be great, Jug,” Veronica says. 

“Just talk to Fred Andrews,” Jughead says, gesturing towards the building. Fred’s inside. She’d made it a point to invite him and set up a little display advertising his construction company. “It’s his son - Archie. I’m sure Fred can put you in touch.”

“Thanks, Jughead, seriously,” Veronica says softly. She doesn’t think about it before leaning up and kissing his cheek, her fingers pressed against against his chest. His heart is pounding. She can feel it through the fabric of his shirt. She likes that. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“Anytime,” he says softly, fingers brushing against her side as she pulls away. “I’ll see you in there.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> day five - maypole

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took way longer than i thought it would take to write. le sigh.

The lawn of the drive in has never looked better. Or at least that’s what Betty insists. Compared to what they were like when they first started this project. The May Pole is standing tall and the grounds are filled with people milling around. Veronica is standing at the flower crown table, weaving yet another one together. 

“Flower crowns, huh?” Jughead asks as he walks up, camera around his neck and hands in his pockets. “Hipster marketing or an actual skill?”

She raises her eyebrow but keeps working on the crown in her hands. It’s the simplest one that she’s made all day, just some left-over greenery braided into a circle. Jughead picks up his camera and leans in to capture a picture of her fingers twisting the leaves together. When she’s done, she holds it out to him with raised eyebrows. 

“I’m not wearing that,” Jughead says, pointing at it. He points to his beanie. “I’m covered.”

“Come on, Jughead, be festive,” she says with a pout. He shakes his head and makes a move to leave. She reaches out to grab his wrist, pulling him back. He opens his mouth to protest but Veronica just jumps up to snatch at his beanie. She holds it behind her back and holds the crown out to him. “At the very least, it shows that you support my fundraising efforts.”

“Remind me again what it is you’re fundraising for exactly?” he mutters as he lowers his head so that she can put the crown on his head. She takes the opportunity to swipe his hair out of his eyes, fingers trembling against his temple. 

“For a journalist, you have very poor listening skills,” Veronica says with a smirk. “You should probably work on that.”

“Indulge me,” he says, corner of his mouth ticking up in the smile she knows is just for her. 

“We’re raising money to turn the drive in into festival grounds. It’s the perfect spot for Riverdale’s various seasonal festivals, not to mention it’s an ideal spot for any other outdoor special event,” Veronica says, reciting her pitch from memory. “And, of course, there’s the historical significance of the drive in. It’s been here for fifty years. It would be a shame if we as a town forgot our history.”

“You know, I almost believe you,” Jughead says. “Very convincing pitch.”

“What does that even mean?” Veronica asks with a frown.

A little boy and his mother walk up, asking about crowns. Jughead starts to walk away but she grabs his wrist, fingers grazing over the back of his hand, to stop him. She’s not done with this conversation. As soon as the donation is done and the two of them walk away with their new crowns, Veronica turns to Jughead. 

“Now,” she says. “What is so hard to believe?”

“I might have been an ass that day at Pop’s,” he says after a long minute. “But that doesn’t change what I said. I meant it, Veronica. This is my home. It’s always been my home and while I appreciate the effort, it needs to be real.”

“It is real!” Veronica says. She shakes her head and tucks her hair behind her ear, the nervous tick that’s replaced clutching her pearl necklace. “I don’t know what you want from me, Jug.”

“Veronica,” he says, voice low and almost regretful. It sends a sharp pain through her chest that she quickly pushes away.

“Look, regardless of what you believe. About me. About how I feel about Riverdale,” Veronica says slowly so that there isn’t any confusion or misunderstanding about where she’s coming from. “This is my home now, just as much as New York ever was, and I will defend my home.”

“Your home.”

“Why do you sound so doubtful?” she asks with a disbelieving laugh. “All I’ve done since I moved here is try to make Riverdale as much my home as it is anyone else’s. No matter what you think, Riverdale is more than just a distraction or - or a vanity project. It’s where I’m laying down my roots and you need to start to accept that.”

She doesn’t wait for him to say something. There’s nothing really to say, is there? She grabs the crown that she’d saved for herself, a ring of purple sweetpea blooms, and places it delicately on her head before heading towards the pole. They’re getting ready to start wrapping it and Veronica doesn’t want to miss it. The fact that it’s a chance to get away from Jughead as well is just an added bonus. 

Betty stands at the front of the lawn with her sister, holding her hands up to get everyone’s attention. Veronica grabs a strand of fabric for the pole and waits patiently for it all to strat. She can feel Jughead’s eyes on her but she refuses to turn towards him. 

Betty meets her eye and nods a little before speaking, “Thank you all so much for joining us as we wrap the Maypole! It’s a town tradition that has gone back to when the Blossoms first founded Riverdale. But just as important is where we are hosting the Maypole this year. Usually we do this in Pickens Park but there’s another part of Riverdale that needed us more, that this town has forgotten.”

She pauses, licking her lips and looking at Veronica again. Veronica smiles and gives her a thumbs up. Betty smiles again, eyes shining in the sunlight as she continues, “The Twilight is part of so many memories. Memories that I know we all cherish. While Pickens Park might be in the center of the town, the Twilight is its heart. When the heart is sick, the body is sick. Let’s take care of our heart. Let’s save the Twilight.”

The crowd claps and cheers. Veronica surveys the crowd, sees the number of crowns that she sold for modest donations to the Save the Twilight fund. Betty’s cheeks are pink and she laughs a little, giving a tiny curtsy to the crowd. Polly takes over from there, explaining how the group should move in order to wrap the pole.

Betty makes her way through the crowd, smiling and shaking hands as she goes. She grabs one of the ribbons next to Veronica and sighs, “Think it worked?”

“No one can say we didn’t try,” Veronica says, nodding. 

Betty’s answering smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes and Veronica reaches out to clasp her hand. Betty relaxes a little and shakes her hair out, blonde locks loose from her ponytail for once. The music starts to play a moment later, streaming over the crowd. Betty had said that she knew a local band that would be willing to play for free since the lead singer grew up in Riverdale.

It starts off slow and so do the dancers. It’s clumsy at first trying to figure out the easiest way to weave around each other without getting tangled. But as the music slowly picked up in tempo so did their steps until finally they were all dancing between each other, bobbing and weaving the ribbons around the pole. 

Veronica can’t help but laugh as the wind whips through her hair and she dances through the other dancers. There are flower crowns on the ground, falling off of people’s heads the faster they dance. Veronica doesn’t even pause when her own falls to the grass behind her. 

She sees Betty’s blonde hair and even Cheryl’s wild mane of red blur past her. Veronica catches glimpses of Jughead on the edge of the dancers, camera firmly attached to his eye. Even if she’s still mad at him, still hurt by him, she manages to put on her prettiest smile whenever she sees the green of the crown she made him. Veronica Lodge refuses to take a bad photo ever. 

Eventually the dancing slows and the music fades and they’re all left standing around the pole, panting and laughing with each other. Betty’s entire face is red but her eyes are sparkling as she laughs with her sister. Veronica presses the back of her hand to her forehead and tries to catch her breath. She looks around the grass near her to see if she can find her crown. She’s sure it was trampled under someone’s foot but still.

“Veronica,” a familiar voice calls from behind her. Veronica sighs and spins around on her heel to face Jughead. He’s holding her purple crown in his hands, eyes looking everywhere but at her. 

“Jughead,” she says, nodding at the crown in his hands. “Put it on me?”

“I am much taller than you,” Jughead concedes. It’s a weak attempt at a joke. An even weaker attempt at an apology which she’s sure is what it’s actually supposed to be. She takes it anyways. 

“Height has nothing to do with this,” she says, rolling her eyes. She steps towards him and finger combs her hair a little. He just smirks as he gently places the crown on her head. She brushes the hair out of her face and looks up at him. “How do I look? Presentable?”

“More than,” he says softly. His hands fall to her shoulders, sliding down her arms a little. Veronica lets him take her hands and tries to breath through her tight throat. “Want to get out of here?”

“My booth,” she replies. It’s barely a protest. They can both hear that in her voice but she makes it anyways. “Let me just ask Betty to take care of it?”

He nods and she hurries away, searching for the familiar head of blonde. Betty is talking with a redhead that she doesn’t recognize but Veronica doesn’t take the time to be introduced. She drags Betty away with an apologetic smile. Betty tries to protest but the look in Veronica’s eye does not allow for an argument. 

“I need you to take care of my booth until the festival is over,” Veronica says quickly. “Literally you can pack it up now or assign someone to cover it. I don’t care. I just need you to cover for me.”

“What is going on? Are you okay?” Betty asks, cupping Veronica’s elbows and frowning in concern. 

“Oh god,” Veronica says with a laugh, leaning against Bety. “Everything is fine. I promise.”

“Jesus, V,” Betty says, covering her chest with a hand. “Don’t scare me like that. What is going on?”

“Jughead,” Veronica says with a repressed smile. Betty’s eye widen before she’s smiling brightly and squealing slightly in excitement. “It could be nothing. It could totally be nothing but yeah. That’s why I need you to cover.”

“I can definitely do that,” Betty says with a nod. Betty pushes Veronica away without another word, sending her stumbling back over to Jughead. 

Jughead just raises an eyebrow at her as she rights herself and smiles. He turns on his heel and starts heading to the parking lot and his truck. Their quiet in the short ride to Pop’s. Of course, she’s not surprised by the choice of location. They sit in their corner booth together and order chocolate shakes and a plate of onion rings to share. Jughead orders a burger and fries as well so Veronica doubles the onion rings and orders a salad.

“A salad?” Jughead asks, mocking as always. “Really? I don’t think it’s going to offset the onion rings and milkshake.”

“It’s not an offset, Jones,” Veronica says, rolling her eyes. “It’s good to eat something green, you know.”

“I do eat something green,” he says. “The lettuce on my burger. That’s green.”

“You’re disgusting,” she says with a nod. “Truly. I do not know how you are alive and not a million pounds.”

“I have good genes,” he says with a tight lipped smile. She laughs and throws her balled up napkin at his forward. His tight lipped smile breaks into a real one and her stomach flips over. It’s not an apology and it’s not forgiveness. Veronica thinks they’re both too stubborn for that but it’s enough. 

It’s more than enough, Veronica decides when Jughead starts talking about the novel he’s been writing since high school. The crime drama based in his small hometown that starts with the death of the star quarterback. His face lights up and her stomach flips over again. She can tell how important this story is to him, this book, this town. Yeah, it’s more than enough. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> day six - spring fling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for how long it took to write this? and if the last moment is garbage i'm sorry for that as well but trying something different? ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

“Please tell me there will be, at the very least, wine,” Veronica asks Betty as they walk into the town hall. Betty just rolls her eyes and pats the top of Veronica’s hand where it’s resting on Betty’s forearm. “Betty that does not bode well for my mood.”

“You’ve loved every event this week,” Betty says with a huff. “Why would the Spring Fling be any different?”

“Maybe because I’m not in high school anymore?” Veronica asks with a sigh. She looks around the main hall and purses her lips. There are fairy lights and tulip centerpieces (centerpieces that her store did not provide, she notes with a slight sniff) and soft pink accent lights everywhere.  “Well, it’s no Met Ball that’s for sure.”

“Come on,” Betty says, dragging Veronica towards the bar. “Let’s get you a drink.”

“Finally you’re speaking sense,” Veronica says, smiling at Betty. They weave through the crowd until they’re both pressed against the bar. Betty straightens up a bit when she sees the pink haired bartender. Veronica wants to ask about it but the bartender turns to the pair of them before she has the chance. 

“Hey Ponytail,” the bartender says, slow and easy. She smiles a little, the corner of her mouth ticking up, and it’s so much like Jughead that it catches Veronica off guard. “Long time no see.”

“Toni,” Betty says, voice high pitched and breathy. Veronica raises her eyebrows looking between the two of them. They’re clearly having a moment that Veronica is not privy to. “Haven’t had a reason to come to the Southside lately.”

“I’m sure I could give you one,” she says. “If you wanted, of course.” 

Veronica nearly laughs out loud at the brazenness. Betty’s cheek turn bright pink and her mouth twists up, trying to contain her own answering smile. She turns to Veronica and blurts out, “Veronica! You have to meet Veronica!”

Toni turns to Veronica with a raised eyebrow that Veronica matches easily. Toni isn’t subtle when she checks Veronica out but she thinks it’s more of a sizing up than any sort of attraction. Veronica puts a hand on her hip and tries her best smile, “Veronica Lodge.”

“Of the Park Avenue Lodges, I’m sure,” Toni says with a mocking bow. She holds her hand out for Veronica. “Toni Topaz.”

“Topaz,” Veronica says musingly as she shakes Toni’s hand. “Like the purple colored gemstone. Love it.”

A spark of amusement dances in Toni’s eye and her stance relaxes just the tiniest bit. She looks at Betty again, a slanting side eye that only makes Betty’s blush spread, before asking Veronica if she wants anything to drink. She orders a gin and tonic, heavy on the lime, and watches as Toni expertly puts her drink together. She doesn’t even ask Betty what she wants before making a vodka soda with a splash of cranberry. 

“Gin and tonic,” she says, putting Veronica’s drink in front of her. She turns to Betty with a little smirk as she presents her drink. “And your usual, Blondie.” 

Betty takes the drink with a blank face before turning on her heel and marching away. Veronica eyes Toni for a moment longer before following after Betty. By the time she’s caught up to her, Betty has finished half her drink and looks determined to finish the rest. Veronica gently pries the cocktail from Betty’s hand and asks the obvious question, “What the hell was that?”

“We went to high school together,” Betty explains. 

“Yet again, I am so happy that I moved away from my hometown,” Veronica mutters. 

Betty quickly follows up with, “And she might have been part of my sexual awakening.”

“Betty Cooper, what?” Veronica asks. She instantly hands Betty her drink back and sips from her own. “Is this the place to say: tell me. Everything.” 

“Probably not,” Betty mutters, sucking up the rest of her drink through the little stirring straw. She drops her empty glass on the tray of a passing waiter and looks over at the bar again. “Besides there isn’t much to tell.”

“I don’t believe you,” Veronica replies. She knows good gossip when she hears it. Veronica had ruled her NYC circle and while it had been months since she played that mean girl role, her senses weren’t that dull. “Anyone who makes you turn that red has a story.”

“I am not red!” Betty denies. She cups her cheeks and glares at Veronica even if it doesn’t contain much heat. “Toni and I are ancient history.”

“Are you sure she knows that?” Veronica asks because she honestly can’t help herself. 

“I need another drink,” Betty mutters. 

“She’s still the bartender,” Veronica points out. Betty stares across the dance floor towards the bar, eyebrows drawn down into a frown. “Betty?”

“I’ll be fine,” Betty mutters before she walks back to the bar with her head held high. 

Veronica sighs and sips on her drink, trying to watch the interaction through the crowd. She’s so engrossed that she doesn’t even notice Jughead until he asks softly in her ear, “What are we watching?”

“Jesus Christ,” Veronica shouts, jerking a little bit. Veronica turns to glare at Jughead as she snags a napkin form a passing waiter. “Do you enjoy giving me heart attacks?”

“It has its perks,” Jughead says with a shrug. 

“Such as?” she asks, narrowing her eyes at him. She’s sure she’s not going to like his answer but no one can accuse Veronica of not being magnanimous. 

“Your eyebrow does this twitching thing,” Jughead says, point to her eyebrows. “It’s doing it right now.”

“I guess it’s the same as the vein that twitches beneath your eye. That’s always good for a laugh,” she says with a shrug.

“What vein?” Jughead asks, copying her from only a few seconds ago and narrowing his eyes. And on cue, the vein throbs once under his eye. Veronica can only smile in response. “Don’t say a word.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Veronica says, holding her hand up. 

“So, where’s your date?” Jughead asks. She’s sure that he’s trying for casual but Veronica isn’t buying it.

“Pretty sure her and the bartender have snuck away somewhere,” Veronica says, trying to find Betty’s head somewhere in the hall. Jughead’s eyebrow are halfway to his hairline when she looks back at him. “Betty and Toni?”

“Oh, I know who you’re talking about,” Jughead says with a laugh. “Trust me. I’m fully aware of their history.”

“I knew there was a story!” Veronica says with a laugh. 

“One that spans many years and includes much heartache,” Jughead says with a sagely nod. Veronica snorts and gets ready to ask for the story but he beats her to it. “One that Betty will have to tell you herself.”

“Boo,” she complains. She finishes off her drink, putting the empty cup on one of the tables. She looks at Jughead for a long second before looking out to the barely filled dance floor. “Dance with me?”

“Excuse me?” 

She reaches forward and adjusts Jughead’s suspenders. She looks up at him, fingers dancing against his chest, “Come on. One dance.”

He swallows loudly but nods a little. She smiles up at him brightly, reaching down to grab his hand and drag him to the dance floor. She’s merciul and accepts a simple side to side shuffle to the song playing, even though it’s not a slow song. His hands are heavy on her hips and she rests her forearms on his shoulders, the tips of her fingers dragging along his upper back.

“So, you've gotten me on the dance floor,” Jughead mumbles, looking over her head. She wants to tilt his chin towards her so that he’s looking at her and only her. Veronica finds herself greedy for his attention suddenly and she tries to swallow down the feeling. 

“So I have,” she says, looking up at him. “Is that a problem for you?”

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “Not a problem at all.”

“Good,” she says and her tone implies that the discussion is over. He smirks a little and gives her a little spin that manages to pull her in closer. “Well, aren’t you a surprise, Mr. Jones?”

“Is that a compliment?” he asks. She shrugs, twirling her fingers deeper into his hair. He inhales sharply and tilts his head towards hers a little more. “Veronica Lodge, are you hitting on me?”

“Have been for weeks,” she says quickly. He blinks, shock and amusement dancing in the grey green of his eyes. “Thanks for noticing though.”

He laughs and rolls his eyes, spinning her out and in again. It’s a good dance. One that doesn’t last long enough for her tastes but she figures she’s lucky to get just the one. Jughead doesn’t let go of her hand as he leads her back to where they had been standing. 

“So,” he says after a long minute. “Is slumming it part of the new Veronica?”

“What?” Veronica asks, standing up straight and blinking. Her heart sinks into her stomach. “You don’t actually think that, right?”

“Veronica,” he says, shaking his head. “I was making a joke.”

“A joke?”

“You have heard of one before, right?” he asks, narrowing his eyes at her as if she’s the one who doesn’t make sense. 

“You are something else, Jughead Jones,” Veronica says with a disbelieving laugh. 

“Something likable though, right?” he asks, sounding far too pleased with himself. 

“It comes and it goes,” she says, refusing to admit any sort of attraction. Especially when he’s being a jackass. “Like a mood swing.”

“A mood swing,” Jughead repeats and Veronica just nods. “I think I liked it better when you were complimenting me.”

“Too bad,” she says, patting his cheek. “So sad.”

“Yeah,” he says with a nod and a grimace. “Definitely prefer compliments.”

“I think I can do you one better,” she says, gripping his suspenders and tugging him towards her. He grabs her hips and looks down at her completely bewildered. “Don’t freak out. Just trust me.”

Veronica leans up onto her toes and kisses him. She keeps her eyes open, watches his flutter shut before closing her own. The kiss is brief and too hard but she feels it to the bottom of her Jimmy Choos. She barely pulls away as she drops back down, hands pressed flat against his chest. 

“Um,” he says, eyes still closed. “That was.”

“Oh god,” she says, pulling away from him instantly and covering her mouth. “Did I? I read this all wrong, didn’t I? Oh my god.”

“What?” he asks, eyes flying open. “What? No. That’s not - that’s not what I’m saying.”

“Oh.”

Jughead lets out a slow breath and rubs a hand over his face. Veronica’s not sure what’s going on and she’s about to ask when he says, “I’m ace.”

“Oh!” Veronica replies. She knows that her eyebrows are halfway to her hairline but she can’t help it. 

“Yeah,” he says with a nod.

“So,” she says slowly. “Sex is?”

“Not my thing,” he replies with a shrug.

“And kissing?” she asks, feeling the guilt rush back in. 

“Kissing is fine,” he says with a laugh. She can only imagine her face right now. “When I know it’s coming.”

“Oh,” she replies. She crosses her arms and tries to will away the blush on her cheeks. “Well then. I am sorry. For rushing like that.”

“Trust me,” he says softly as he steps closer to her. “You really don’t have to be.”

Veronica smiles softly before reaching forward and taking his hand again. He laces their fingers together and brushes his thumb over her knuckles. She tugs him towards the exit, “Walk a girl home?”

He snorts and rolls his eyes but follows after her all the same.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> day seven - in bloom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> about a month (?) after jeronica week actually ends i finally finish my entry for it! lol. pure fluff. possibly minus some characterization but meh.

They date. Casually. Far more casual than anything Veronica is used to. Jughead usually stops by the flower shop after a day working at the Register. They’ll walk to Pops if she isn’t busy or he’ll open his laptop and work on his novel while she puts arraignments together. They don’t put a label on whatever it is they are and it doesn’t irk Veronica. She continually finds herself repeating new town, new Veronica to herself in quiet moments. 

She’s finishing up a bouquet ordered by Cheryl when the bell over the door rings. Veronica doesn’t bother looking up as she calls out a hello. Jughead crosses the small shop to her work station and leans over to kiss the top of her head. She smiles and leans into his chest, turning her face up for a proper kiss hello. 

“I have a surprise for you,” he mutters against her lips. He tastes like coffee and grape jelly. Veronica smiles a little and makes a mental note to make him eat something green for dinner. “But you have to come with me to get it.”

“Jughead Jones coming through with an impromptu date?” Veronica asks with a pleased smile. “Who would have thought?”

“Don’t get too cocky,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Finish up here. I’ll be in the truck.”

“Sure thing,” she replies, tipping up on her toes to snag another kiss. He cups her jaw and extends it beyond a customary peck. It goes straight through her, making her stomach flip over and her heart skip a beat. His kisses were doing that on a regular basis by now. She’s not sure what to think about it so she doesn’t. Or she tries not to. 

Jughead pulls away with a bashful laugh. He ducks his head and looks at her through his lashes, the tiniest smirk on his face. She cups his cheek, running her thumb just under his eye before pushing him away a little. Jughead just spins away and leaves the store. 

Veronica continues working on the bouquet, snipping a few stray leaves and wrapping the whole thing in paper. She writes up the receipt in her book, grabs her purse, and locks up the store, bouquet safe in her arms. Jughead just groans when he sees the flowers in her arms. 

“You’re the one trying to surprise me!” she says, punching him in the shoulder. He laughs and pulls away from the curb. “Just swing by Thistle House, okay?”

“Sure thing, Miss Lodge,” he says with a tip of his head. 

Veronica just rolls her eyes and turns the radio up, rolling her window down. She sticks her arm out and spreads her fingers wide in the wind. Jughead reaches across the seat bed and grabs her free hand, tangling their fingers together. She smiles into the wind and squeezes his hand tight. It's a good feeling. 

The ride to Thistle House is a short one. Veronica hops out before Jughead has come to a complete stop, ignoring his shouts as she hurries up the driveway. She drops the bouquet on the mat, rings the doorbell, and rushes back to the truck without even thinking about it. She hops into the passenger seat with an excited grin thoroughly enjoying the surprise in Jughead’s face. 

“Ready?” she asks as she buckles up. He smirks and pulls away, windows down and his hat sitting on the bench. Veronica pulls on her sunglasses even though it’s a cloudy day. “So, Torombolo, what’s the plan?”

“The plan,” he says as he reaches across the bench to unbuckle her seatbelt. Veronica goes easily when he tugs her across the bench to curl up against his side. He kisses the top of her head and wraps his arm around her shoulder. “Is to drive out to your surprise.”

She snuggles into him and smiles, wrapping an arm around his stomach. The music is a quiet soundtrack under the rushing wind and the sound of the truck. They take the winding back roads that Jughead knows like the back of his hand. Veronica has no idea where there going and not a moment of anxiety attached to it. 

Eventually they pull over to a small roadside flower stand. Veronica sits up and feels a pleased thrum go through her. Jughead doesn’t explain as he parks and climbs out of the car. She follows after him, reaching out to grab his arm. She might be a bit clingy but he doesn’t seem to mind. 

Veronica is actually impressed by the variety that the small stand has. Jughead disappears to the front counter while Veronica is left to pull together a bouquet of her own. It’s simple for the most part, lots of greenery and filler flowers. She’s not made of money after all. By the time she’s done so is Jughead and he’s waiting at the counter. 

“Please tell me that’s for me,” he says, pointing at the bouquet. 

She scoffs and rolls her eyes, “A girl can buy herself flowers, you know.”

“God, you are a charmer,” Jughead says as he stops her from paying. She protests but Jughead just bumps her with his hip. “I’m taking you on the date. Let me pay.”

“I know when to let a man spoil me, Jughead Jones,” Veronica says, reaching up to cup his jaw. He leans into it a little before pulling a face. “But you question my charm?” 

“My she is a treat, isn’t she, Jughead?” the cashier finally chimes in. The transaction is over and they’ve definitely overstayed their visit. The strawberry blonde girl smiles serenely at the both of them. “I’m excited to work with her. Evelyn Evernever. This is my family’s shop.”

“Hi,” Veronica says, glancing at Jughead. He grimaces little but she puts on her best business smile and extends her hand. “Veronica Lodge. Owner of _Le_ _Fleur de Vie_.”

“The flower of life,” Evelyn translates as she takes Veronica’s hand. There’s something different about Evelyn. Her stare a little too intense and direct for Veronica’s liking. “Lovely name for what I am sure is a lovely shop.”

“Your stand is,” Veronica says with an appreciative glance around. “Beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Evelyn says with genuine appreciation. She licks her lips and inhales sharply, eyes widening a little bit. “Actually, my family’s farm grows all of these flowers just outside of Riverdale. If you’re ever in need of a supplier.”

Veronica glances at Jughead who is studiously looking elsewhere before answering Evelyn, “Honestly, your blooms are beautiful and there is definitely a level of variety I haven’t been able to find through my other suppliers. I’m surprised that your family farm didn’t come up?”

“We tend to stay off the grid, mostly,” Evelyn says, rolling her eyes. “My father tends to be a little old school, if you will. But! We do have a card.”

She produces a simple white business card with The Farm in embossed green lettering. There’s a phone number and an address but Veronica notices the lack of email or online presence at all. Veronica tucks the card into her purse and thanks Evelyn. She grabs Jughead’s forearm and drags him out of the stand, the flowers safe in the crook of her elbow. 

“You could have warned me, you know?” Veronica hisses once they are out of hearing distance of Evelyn. Jughead just smirks down at her before opening the truck door and helping her in. She rolls her eyes exaggeratedly as he goes to get in the truck himself. She wants to make sure that he sees it. “I mean, while I appreciate the business hookup, I really do not see the date aspect of this little excursion.”

“Maybe because we aren’t done?” he says, looking at her out of the side of his eye. Evelyn comes out of the stand and watches them drive off with the same serene smile. Veronica swears that she can feel her eyes on them long after they’ve driven off. “Don’t worry about the Evernevers though. They’re intense but they’re harmless.”

“I got some very distinct unsub vibes from her,” Veronica says with a playful smile. Jughead just rolls his eyes at the reference. “I’m sure you have a profile all written up about the whole lot of them.”

“You watch one Criminal Minds episode and you think you know everything about me?” Jughead asks as they drive closer to Riverdale. 

Veronica just nods in agreement before leaning against the door and hanging her head out the window. The sun feels good on her skin and she must zone out because next thing she knows they’re pulling into Sunnyside Trailer Park. 

She hasn’t been here before. Never had a need to. Veronica of course has heard the rumors about the drugs, the gangs that come out of Sunnyside. She might be new to the town but that doesn’t mean she’s completely ignorant.

“You live here?” she finds herself asking as they stop in front of one of the trailers. 

“Is that judgement that I hear in your voice?” Jughead asks as he gets out of the truck. 

Veronica watches him go up to the door and unlock it, waiting in the open doorway for her to join him. Veronica huffs a little and gets out of the truck, mouth pressed into an flat smile. She makes it a point to maintain eye contact until she’s up the stoop and standing in front of him. He smirks a little and holds out a hand for her. Veronica’s smile becomes a little more genuine when he presses a dry kiss to his knuckles.

“Ready?” she asks, slowly raising her eyebrow. Jughead nods and leads her inside. The trailer is modest but the endless bouquets of flowers covers almost every inch of it’s mediocrity. The fragrance is intoxicating. Veronica works in a flower shop, has spent years around flowers and working with flowers, but this floors her. “Jughead. This is beautiful.”

“I know you’re a florist,” he says softly, hand on her hip and head tilted towards her ear. A shiver runs up her spine and she bites her lip, eyes still scanning the various blooms surrounding them. “But I figured that every beautiful woman deserves flowers.”

“Every beautiful woman. So, you’ve done this before, have you?” she asks, voice just as soft as his. He scoffs and she can practically see him rolling his eyes even though she didn’t turn to look at him. She takes a step into the trailer and leans down to press her face into a bunch of roses. “I must say, you  never struck me as the grand romantic gesture type.”

He leaves the door open as he follows her deeper into the sea of flowers, hand reaching for her lower back this time. He guides her to sit down on the couch, arm sliding to wrap around her waist. She leans into his side and rests a hand on his chest. Like so many times before, she’s pleasantly surprised to find his heart beating just as quickly as her own.

“Look,” Jughead says softly. “I’m a writer but I’m not good with words. The grand gesture seemed like the best option. Like something that you would appreciate.”

“It is definitely appreciated,” she mumbles. She looks up at him and moves her hand from his chest to brush the hair out of his eyes. “Any other surprises, Mr. Jones?”

He smiles down at her, just the corner of his mouth quirking up, eyes searching her face before he blurts, “I like you. A lot. And I know you said you came here for a new start but . . . I just wanted to give you a reason to stay.”

“Jughead.”

“Just,” he says, holding his hand up. She presses her lips together and mimes locking it. Jughead chuckles a little and cups her cheek. “I know you’re used to a certain kind of relationship. I know that you’ve never been with someone, well, like me.”

She can’t help but open her mouth to speak but Jughead presses his thumb to her mouth and smiles. She nips at the tip of his thumb, smiling a little when his gaze locks onto her mouth. She releases him and gestures for him to continue.

“It’s simple. I don’t want you to think that I’m not right there with you,” Jughead says. 

His eye are intense and Veronica can’t look away. He moves his thumb to her chin and pulls her closer. Veronica presses herself against him and feels her heart skip a beat. They’ve never been this close. It’s more intoxicating than the floral perfume surrounding them. He must know what he’s doing to her because his eyes darken. 

“I really like you, Veronica,” he continues. His voice is little more than rumble and Veronica can feel it course through her. “A lot and I just wanted to make that very, very clear.”

“Oh trust me,” she says as she swings a leg over his thighs. He leans back on the couch, hands on her knees. She sinks down until she’s resting her weight on his thighs. His hands slide up her thighs, skin hot through her jeans. “That message has definitely been received.”

“Good,” he says, eyes firmly on her mouth. He licks his lips and swallows loudly. “That’s very good.”

She nods before leaning down. She pauses, gives him a second to say stop her if he wants, but he rushes up meeting her half-way. Veronica buries her fingers into the hair at the base of the neck and kisses him back. His hands flex on her thighs and Veronica groans into his mouth. Jughead jerks back with an amused smirk, “Yeah?”

“Shut up,” she says, rolling her eyes. She reaches up and rubs at the lipstick on his mouth. “What do you expect when you romance a girl?”

“I’ll try to remember that for next time,” he mutters before leaning up to kiss her again. She smiles against his mouth. “And before you ask - yes, there will be a next time.”

“Good to know,” she says softly, kissing him again. “Good to know.”


End file.
